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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28956252">sit next to me</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/citrusflower/pseuds/citrusflower'>citrusflower</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Dreamcatcher (Korea Band)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>2Yoo - Freeform, Alternate Universe - College/University, Drinking, F/F, Profanity, gahyeon is having a great time in high school xoxo, siyeon is mentioned, sudong</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 05:54:18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,194</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28956252</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/citrusflower/pseuds/citrusflower</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“Her last name is <i>Kim</i>?” Yubin says, incredulous, from where she’s perched with her laptop on a kitchen barstool. “Well, good luck with <i>that</i>.”<br/>Handong huffs as she throws herself backwards onto their common room sofa, opening her Instagram feed. “I wasn’t going to just <i>ask</i>.”</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Han Dong | Handong/Kim Bora | SuA, Kim Yoohyeon/Lee Yubin | Dami</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>84</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>sit next to me</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>a meditation on how when you go to a party you can lose track of your friends SO easy i guess ?! i love a good university au.</p><p>written after a few long-ago conversations with @highminky on twt and also inspired by <a href="https://twitter.com/queqiaos/status/1238943079752744962">this tweet</a>. title from the song of the same name by foster the people</p><p>content warnings: there is drinking and a non-graphic mention of an injury from a fight. bora curses.</p><p>to be clear, this is set in a very Good world where creepy dudes at parties don’t exist. enjoy &lt;3</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The Student Affairs Office always smells faintly of citrus. It’s probably whatever they use to clean all the surfaces, Handong figures, but still — surface cleaner citrus. It lends the entire office a vaguely unpleasant, clinical scent.</p><p>She taps the toe of her white Balenciaga flat in the air as she waits, one leg crossed over the other in an obnoxiously orange plush chair.</p><p>Hey. Orange could be her color. She makes a note to herself.</p><p>She checks her phone again and sighs a little, internally. Her appointment was supposed to start seven minutes ago. <em> Super quick</em>, Minji had said. <em> You’ll definitely make your 2:30 lecture. </em></p><p>It <em> should </em> be quick. Handong knows she <em> should </em>have added another thirty minutes’ buffer time when she scheduled this. She makes another note to herself.</p><p>“… Ahem. Miss Han?”</p><p>Handong looks up to see the harried-looking face of the head receptionist at Student Affairs. She smiles slightly and gets up. “Hi, Mrs. Lee.”</p><p>Mrs. Lee makes a valiant effort to return the smile before proceeding. “Miss Han,” she says, looking thoroughly apologetic, “I’m so sorry, but I’m afraid we’ll have to reschedule today’s appointment about the drama club grant.”</p><p>Handong frowns a little. “Is everything alright?”</p><p>Mrs. Lee frowns a little too, like she can’t decide, herself. “Mm — yes. We just received word from a professor about a bit of an, ah, emergent situation.”</p><p>Handong nods politely, after an appropriate pause. “I understand,” she says, reaching into her purse for her phone. “Would it be best if I emailed you my available meeting times over the next two weeks?”</p><p>Mrs. Lee takes a breath to reply, and the office door swings open.</p><p>
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</p><p>The first thing Handong notices about the girl is the angry red welt on her left cheekbone. She wears it like it’s jewelry, holding her head steady and high despite what Handong knows must at least sting like hell. <em> I’m not wrong</em>, the girl’s aura says. <em> I’m not giving in. </em></p><p>“Ah, Miss Kim,” Mrs. Lee says, turning, and Handong thinks about hand signaling <em> I’ll just email you then! </em>so she can leave.</p><p>But — she doesn’t really want to leave. And the office waiting room is a bit cramped, anyway. So she stays.</p><p>“Miss Kim” gives Mrs. Lee a long look. “Yes,” she says, finally. Her voice sounds a little tired.</p><p>Mrs. Lee nods, looking sheepish again. “Please take a seat.”</p><p>The girl turns towards the rest of the room, gaze stuttering awkwardly when she notices Handong. Handong drops eye contact first, out of courtesy. The girl seems — not necessarily vulnerable, but bare, somehow. There’s something dangerous about it: the pure force of her being.</p><p>“I’ll leave now,” Handong announces to no one in particular, and flees.</p><p>
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</p><p>“Her last name is <em> Kim</em>?” Yubin says, incredulous, from where she’s perched with her laptop on a kitchen barstool. “Well, good luck with <em>that</em>.”</p><p>Handong huffs as she throws herself backwards onto their common room sofa, opening her Instagram feed. “I wasn’t going to just <em> ask</em>.”</p><p>“There are about two thousand of us,” Yubin deadpans, “and that’s only <em>our year</em>.” She makes a resigned noise and goes back to tapping away on her laptop. “Honestly, I’m a little impressed you <em> don’t </em>know her.”</p><p>Handong puts her phone down and stares at the ceiling. There’s a small, barely-there crack running along the air vent. She imagines it caving in and absolving her of all her problems. Specifically the Miss Kim one.</p><p>“Ughhhhhhhhhh,” she says, for good measure, before sitting up and opening Instagram again.</p><p>Yubin looks up and makes an exaggerated sympathy face.</p><p>“Oh, please,” Handong snaps. “At least I’m not slow burning into oblivion out here. Who are you messaging right now?”</p><p>“Shut <em> up</em>,” Yubin says, good-naturedly.</p><p>“Alright,” Handong says, and finds what she’s looking for. “Come with me to this party tonight.”</p><p>
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</p><p>The air stinks of cheap boxed wine.</p><p>“Just to be clear,” Yubin says, voice muffled as they duck into the sweaty darkness of whichever dorm basement this is, “We are spending exactly one hour here. And if you run into her, I’m going to <em> respectttttttfully </em> give you space.”</p><p>“Sure,” Handong says, and promptly step-skids onto someone’s abandoned solo cup. She wrinkles her nose and rights herself. “Maybe thirty minutes.” Yubin grins.</p><p>The floor feels and smells sticky. Handong applauds herself for wearing the Docs tonight.</p><p>“God,” Yubin mutters over her cider, after they’ve staked out a spot by the wall in the corner. “I’m not drunk enough for this…” — she gestures vaguely — “… Cinderella 2.0.”</p><p>“Hey!” Handong says. “You’re here because you love me.”</p><p>“I <em>dooo</em>,” Yubin scrunches up her face, sickeningly sweet, before snapping her expression back to baseline. “Now go get your girl.”</p><p>“Not <em>get </em>— ” Handong protests. “She’s not even ‘<em>my girl</em>’,” she finishes weakly. She feels very jumbled. It’s uncomfortable.</p><p>“She could be.” Yubin smirks, lazy, like a satisfied cat. Handong is going to get her back, one of these days. Handong is going to call up Y —</p><p>“<em>Heyyyyy! </em> Binnie! Dongie!” A whirlwind of a person bowls into Yubin and almost knocks her over, resurfacing from disheveled hair to reveal herself as one seemingly quite inebriated Yoohyeon Kim.</p><p>Speak of the devil, Handong thinks, and almost snickers at how Yubin’s entire energy shifts — quieter, shyer, hand reaching up to fit at the small of Yoohyeon’s back. Handong really can’t stand a slow burn.</p><p>“How <em> are </em>you guys?” Yoohyeon barrels on, delightfully oblivious — or nervous. Her cut-off shorts are sure making Yubin look nervous. “I didn’t know you came out to these!”</p><p>“We don’t,” Yubin says, tearing her eyes back up to Yoohyeon’s face. The action seems to reset her; she nods her chin towards Handong. “Miss <em> Han </em> here has a little mission.”</p><p>Yoohyeon’s eyes widen comically. “Reaaaally?”</p><p>Handong makes a noncommittal sound. “Look — ”</p><p>“Technically, she already knows,” Yubin says, bravado returned. “Who do you think I was messaging?”</p><p>Handong turns on her. “<em>You </em> — ”</p><p>“Hey,” someone shouts in the distance. “The dance team is here!”</p><p>
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</p><p>✧</p><p>
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</p><p>Bora likes the dance team. It’s Friday night, Bora likes the dance team, and she’s <em> totally </em>adjusting well to being at a new university. Easy.</p><p>“To our newest member, Bora!”</p><p>To her right, Minji takes a shot of something awful and sighs contentedly. The rest of the dance team choruses: “To Bora!”</p><p>Bora fake-curtsies fake-demurely before raising her cup with a whoop and downing her shot too, laughing as everyone thumps her on the back. The alcohol burns — Minji wasn’t lying, it is <em> not good </em> — but it only makes her feel more alive. It’s Friday night.</p><p>“Hey, new kid,” one of the senior girls says, leaning in to be heard over the music. “Way to make an entrance. Thanks for sticking up for us today.”</p><p>“Of fucking <em> course</em>,” Bora grins. “Fucker deserved it.”</p><p>Her cheekbone is kind of starting to hurt — duh, it’s <em> bruising </em> — but she can take it. Anyway, she kind of likes the looks people give her now: a little scandalized, a little curious.</p><p>Except for that girl earlier today. Bora frowns, pushing her cup back over the counter of the makeshift bar. She didn’t even get her name.</p><p>“Whatcha thinking about?” Minji says, leaning over, voice sweet.</p><p>Bora likes Minji. She’s so nice — the kind of person who instantly makes Bora feel safe. Easy. “Nothing,” Bora says lightly, putting a hand on Minji’s arm, turning towards the dance floor. “C’mon. Let’s show ’em what we got.”</p><p>The “dance floor”, really just the middle of the room, is packed with people trying to grind to Tipsy or something. Bora tugs Minji into the center of the crowd, jostling them through various little arrangements of people: pairs, shy circles, the occasional loner. Bora loves this. She finds a spot directly under a gaudy disco ball someone has attached to the ceiling and tips her head back, giddy on life. Someone pops up at Minji’s side and introduces themselves; a few more people filter into their new circle, laughter soundless over the music, but still there. Bora leans into the feeling, leans into the people around her. Easy.</p><p>
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</p><p>“Gonna get some air,” Bora calls a few songs later, and Minji shoots her a lazy thumbs up.</p><p>Bora slowly weaves her way back out through the crowd, reveling in the sudden cool front that washes over her as she reaches the edge. She ambles over to the water machine and fills a cup for herself, scanning the room for a place to sit. It’s hot. She grabs the hem of her cropped sweater and tries to flap it against her body, relishing in the little wind she can fan against herself.</p><p><em> Aha. </em> There’s a worn sofa in the corner, tucked away in a half-alcove. She makes her way over and flops down next to a pile of coats. It’s surprisingly soft, and when she relaxes, the full weight of the day seems to settle into her body. She decides she’ll close her eyes for one second. Just one second. Easy… </p><p>
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</p><p>✧</p><p>
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</p><p>“Oh my God, <em> Dongie</em>!” Minji shrieks when she sees her, jumping at her and nearly spilling her drink. “How <em> are </em>you? How did the meeting go? Did you make your lecture?”</p><p>Handong chuckles a little into Minji’s hair. “Doing alright,” she says, as Minji steps back. “Meeting rescheduled. Made my lecture.”</p><p>“Aw, I’m sorry,” Minji hums sympathetically. “I am <em> so </em>glad to see you though! I feel like it’s been forever.”</p><p>Handong grins. “Yeah, yeah.”</p><p>Minji taps the side of her beer can. “Anyone else here tonight?”</p><p>“Welllll,” Handong says, leaning in and lowering her voice conspiratorially. “Yubin came with me, and we ran into Yoohyeon. They went off somewhere, though.”</p><p>“Oh?”</p><p>“<em>Riiiiiight</em>,” Handong says. “Maybe they’ll finally ‘talk’.”</p><p>“We’ll <em> seeeeeee</em>,” Minji drawls, raising her eyebrows playfully, and downs the rest of her beer. She sighs and crumples the can to throw away. “I’m gonna jump back in there — Siyeon’s waiting. You wanna come?”</p><p>“I’ll probably head out soon, actually,” Handong says. “Have fun though?”</p><p>Minji beams, leans in for a final air kiss exchange, and disappears into the crowd.</p><p>Handong starts walking towards the back of the room to get her coat. All in all, not a terrible night, even if she didn’t miraculously run into Mystery Girl. What are the chances, anyway, she thinks. Ha. Her statistics tutorial was right.</p><p>She reaches the line of sofas along the back of the room and walks up to the one where she’d left her coat, way in the corner.</p><p>There’s someone on the couch, she realizes. Sleeping? Legs tucked up, head resting on the fluffy hood of Handong’s parka.</p><p>Handong draws closer and freezes.</p><p>What <em> are </em> the chances.</p><p>
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</p><p>✧</p><p>
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</p><p>“Hey… Hey…”</p><p>Bora opens her eyes slowly. The air is dark and warm, punctuated by bright flashes of color somewhere in the distance. Her cheek is resting on something soft.</p><p>“Are you okay?” The voice is like crushed velvet, smooth and expensive.</p><p>Bora looks up and does a double take.</p><p>“Am I dreaming?” she mumbles, and realizes she’s said it aloud. “Wait. Oh my God.”</p><p>Shock flits briefly across her rescuer’s face, before it’s replaced by — amusement? The girl hovering above her seems to smile, just a little. “Not sure,” she says. “Want me to pinch you?”</p><p>Bora feels her face heat up. “No,” she says, a bit stubbornly.</p><p>The girl laughs. It’s a nice sound. Her eyes flicker down, then up again. “So… I take it you’re okay?”</p><p>Bora doesn’t understand how someone can act this… put-together. “I’m… fine,” she says, sitting up on the couch. Unfortunately, it doesn’t really add a lot to her height.</p><p>“Okay,” the girl says, and nods. “Sorry about that, by the way — I just needed to get my coat.” She gestures to the parka Bora had apparently been sleeping on, and Bora tries — admirably — not to feel a small flare of disappointment. The girl straightens, keeping her eyes down as she folds the parka onto her arm. It’s weirdly tense. Bora feels kind of stupid just sitting there, watching her. Or no — not that — not that <em>she’s</em> stupid. Just like — <em> it’s </em> stupid — </p><p>“Hey,” she blurts out, surprising herself. “Were you — were you in that office earlier today?”</p><p>The girl falters, glancing back up. “I — Yeah.”</p><p>Bora feels a quick flash of victory. “Oh, cool,” she says, and beams. “I’m Bora.”</p><p>The girl smiles, just slightly. She’s pretty. “Handong.”</p><p><em> Handong. </em>Bora turns the name over in her mouth and grins. “Oh, yeah,” she says, “So — earlier today — well, I’m new here, and — ”</p><p>“Oh, so <em> that’s </em>why I didn’t recognize you.” Handong’s expression is relaxed now, eyes cutely half-lidded — Bora wonders if it’s the alcohol or she’s always like this — </p><p>“Let me finish,” she says instead, and pouts a little.</p><p>“Should I sit?” Handong says, eyebrow raised. “Sounds like a long story.”</p><p>“Oh — Okay,” Bora says, a bit startled and a bit entranced, eyes following Handong as she moves to sink down beside her. “Buckle up,” she adds, trying to joke, but there isn’t much bite to it.</p><p>“Of course,” Handong shoots back, laughing low, and Bora can’t wait to kiss her.</p><p>This is what it feels like, hm? New beginnings, in the dim corner of a party. Easy.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>and then they lived happily ever after &lt;3 who knows what happened to 2yoo though :)</p><p>i really liked writing this! i find it both cheesy and great that my writing took me to something that fulfilled the title of this fic (chosen kind of arbitrarily when i first started writing), and that sitting is kind of a theme throughout this. in the beginning mrs. lee tells bora to sit but handong leaves before bora can sit next to her. at the end handong sits next to bora. accidental poetic cinema.</p><p>i didn't start out wanting to do alternating pov, but i realized that i liked writing from handong's pov at the beginning and then wanted to write from bora's at the end. it's kind of campy but it was fun! also fun to play around with how information is revealed (bora being new etc.) and a bit of audience laughs @ sudong always Just Missing Each Other (bora leaving minji to sit down and then handong running into minji; the way if both of them had just Told Minji Anything they might have found each other sooner, but looooool they are just Like That.) and lastly fun to play with what is written outright in the story! for example, bora got into a fight with some scummy dude earlier, which is why she got sent to the office, but i didn't really feel the need to write in that scene. and the ending conversation and bora telling her story is <i>going</i> to happen. they'll probably figure out they both know minji and everything. i just like the feeling of leaving them to it.</p><p>other notes: dadong roommate energy sincerely brings me so much JOY. i love those two so much. and of course sudong and 2yoo tru favs.</p><p>i am on twitter <a href="https://twitter.com/queqiaos">@queqiaos</a><br/>tweet version of fic lives <a href="https://twitter.com/queqiaos/status/1353694418692268032">here</a>. interact as you wish!</p><p>-</p><p>This story is part of the <a>LLF Comment Project</a>, which was created to improve communication between readers and authors. This author invites and appreciates feedback, including:</p><ul>
<li>Short comments</li>
<li>Long comments</li>
<li>Questions</li>
<li>“&lt;3” as extra kudos</li>
<li>Reader-reader interaction</li>
</ul><p>This author responds to comments! If you don’t want a reply for any reason, feel free to sign your comment with “whisper” and I will appreciate it but not respond!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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